PostApocolywhat?
by VamP1R4T3
Summary: Fallout 3 FF. Ingrid escapes from the vault with a sudden realisation of how perverse and pathetic the vault really was. Armed with a 10mm Pistol, sharp tongue, irritable temperment and increasingly bad-hair day she stumbles out into the wasteland...
1. Chapter 1

[Disclaimer: I do not Own Fallout 3 or the characters created by the creators of Fallout 3, not doing this for money or other personal gain stuff etc etc. I Do however own, Ingrid and the other OC's in this fanfiction. Yay me, not.]

_ESCAPE! Wedgies._

Ingrid staggered down the hill, collapsing behind a rock outcrop, the entrance to Vault 101 lay behind her, the sun lay in front of her, burning into her squinting eyes, her own heart throbbing in her ears as her leg continued to dribble blood, Thankfully the guard had missed with his gun, obviously even they were concerned about the Overseer's insane desire for her to be punished for something her father had done. She rubbed her eyes hurriedly and yanked her boots off, her socks knotting together as she turned them into a makeshift bandage. She wiped the blood onto her jumpsuit and leant back against the rock, eyes closing, her ears straining to pick up any pursuing footsteps. But with all the propaganda the Overseer brainwashed everyone with, it wasn't surprising they were afraid of the outside world. Ingrid pulled her flaming red-orange hair back, tucking it behind her ears, it was messy and unkempt, Amata had insisted there wasn't time for anything except escaping. Ingrid's green-blue eyes finally opened again allowing her to peer out into the sun-baked landscape, she could seen an old water-tower a little way down the hill and what was obviously the ruins of a town beyond that. After a few more minutes of self-pity about being thrown out into this barren landscape she pushed herself to her feet, her injured calf protesting vehemently. She bashfully pulled a wedgie out, painfully aware that she'd picked the only pair of too-small underwear in her cupboard the night before. She glanced down at herself, the blue jumpsuit hugging her curves almost immodestly, had that been another perverse idea from the Overseer? She sighed and begrudgingly began her way down the hill, picking a path between the rocky outcrops, if her luck held there might be someone selling clothes in that Megaton place she'd heard about. No, if her luck held out she'd have her clothes torn from her and be forced to work as a hooker, she'd need a million four leaf clovers to make her luck change for the better.

Ingrid sulked as she walked down the craggy broken pavement, the sun was too hot, it burnt her pale skin as she walked, she was sweating and beginning to smell bad, and she'd only been outside for ten minutes. She cursed her jumpsuit, stupid material didn't breath, her sock-less feet were starting to get blisters. She sighed and followed the road around, the Megaton sign pointing to what looked like a giant iron wall. I took her a moment to realise that the wall curved around and even longer for her confused brain to recognise and old robot guarding the main gates.

"Have yourself a pleasant day!" It intoned in a grating metallic voice as she approached, "Welcome to Megaton."

"Please!" came another voice. Ingrid turned to see a man propped against a group of rocks, "Do you have any water?" the beggar asked.

Ingrid's temper suddenly boiled over, SHE was being begged from? It should be the other way round! "I don't have any stinking water!" she snapped suddenly, "Do I look like I'm carrying any water? Where the fuck would I hide it you dick-bag?"

The beggar fell silent suddenly as she stormed past him and pushed against the enormous iron gate.

Ingrid slipped through the inner gate and was about to lay down in the cool welcoming shade when someone spoke.

"Well well, what do we have here? Another new face."

Ingrid groaned and looked up, the hat was the first thing that caught her attention, sitting atop the dark skinned man's head like some bad reminiscence from a wild west movie, his eyes were fixed on her.

"I guess you're another one from the vault huh?" the duster wearing man muttered. He paused, "I'm Lucas Simms, Sheriff of this town."

"Ingrid." she muttered in reply.

"You ought to get your leg looked at, the Doc's clinic is right down there." he muttered pointing towards a small ramshackle hut on stilts. Ingrid followed the building slowly and realized it wasn't one ramshackle hut but a dozen or more of them, all connected together with ramps and steps and pipes. "Just keep your nose clean and we'll get along fine Ingrid." the Sheriff muttered threateningly before stalking off on his patrol.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, "The first town I come to is run by a wacko with a Jesse Jane fetish." she murmured stepping slowly towards the shack, wincing in pain every time her injured calf had to take her body weight. It wasn't until Ingrid walked past a would-be settler did she realise just how much weight she had. She'd never been fat, her genetics had given her just the right proportions to be pretty, not necessarily smoking, but pretty at least. Nicely curving hips and backside and a modest chest had always made her feel as though she was alright looking but as the anorexic settler strode past on her stilt-like legs with her board-flat body Ingrid suddenly felt enormous, next to this skeletal woman she was practically a white whale. Ingrid self-consciously put a hand to her stomach, there was only the tiniest bit of softness there, her exercise schedule had always kept her toned. But now even that tiny bit of softness felt like it was metres thick. As the skeleton continued past every bit of self-belief Ingrid had built up over the past years vanished, the fear from puberty suddenly returning, she bit her lip and glanced at the doorway to the clinic, tiny voices in the back of her head started talking about how her enormous backside would get her stuck. Ingrid took a breath and tried to push the thoughts to the back of her head, she tried forcibly reminding herself that she was the normal one here and everyone else was just starving. But even with the positive reinforcement she still felt every tiny wobble from her thighs, every tiny jiggle from her breasts. The voices in the back of her head suddenly took on the form of her childhood tormentors, the voices seemed to feed on her own fears.

"There all fixed." The Doctor snapped, "Now I'm going to get back to the important patients.

Ingrid handed him the remains of her bottle caps and stepped back outside, the door cutting off his murmuring about 'pampered vault prats' and 'useless women'. She sighed and stared at the unexploded Warhead that rested in a puddle of water in the centre of the town, a ranting old coot was standing in the pool preaching to passersby, some had stopped to listen to him, others simply walked by uninterested. Why on earth would anyone build a town, and that was using the word loosely, around a nuke? She shrugged her shoulders and stepped back down the ramp, the medicine the doctor had given her had worked wonders, she only felt the occasional twinge from her leg and he'd used better bandages, her feet were relieved to finally have something soft between them and her hard leather boots. The redhead made a beeline for the bar and sat down next to a pretty blonde woman, the blonde's clothes were dirty and ragged but she smiled as Ingrid sat down.

"Hey, you're new." the blonde said smiling.

Ingrid sighed, "Can we skip the 'you're new' talk?"

The blonde nodded, "I guess everyone says that."

Ingrid nodded.

"Are you planning on leaving again soon?"

Another nod, followed by an unsure shrug.

The blonde smiled, "When you leave next could you run an errand for me? I'll pay of course."

Ingrid sighed, she did need more caps, "You're lucky I don't have any caps otherwise I'd be refusing outright."

The blonde nodded, "I'd go myself but..." her voice trailed off.

"Too dangerous?" Ingrid suggested.

The blonde nodded.

Ingrid rested her head against the bar, "What do you need done?"

"I need a letter delivered to the West's in Arefu?"

Ingrid muttered something before replying properly, "Give me ammo and a drink and I'll be your message girl."

The blonde smiled awkwardly and dropped a pack of 10mm bullets onto the table, "I thought you might need these." she paused again and slid a bottle of purified water over next to the bullets, "My name's Lucy West by the way."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Ingrid muttered.

Ingrid muttered a greeting to Simms as she left.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked curiously.

"Better to leave than to sit here waiting for a bomb to explode, you guys were stupid to build your town around an undetonated nuke."

"Well, we needed help building the town and the Church was only just getting started then." he shrugged, "It hasn't hurt anybody yet, we're just hoping it never will."

"Why don't you get someone to disarm it?" Ingrid asked glancing back to the metal bulb of death in the centre of the town.

"Nobody around here knows enough about bombs." Lucas shrugged, "Do you know anybody who could? I'd offer a reward for anyone who could ensure it'd never go off."

Ingrid's lips twitched, she'd always been good with her hands, "What's the reward?"

"One hundred caps for anyone who can disarm that thing."

Ingrid's lips twitched again, "Make it two hundred and you got yourself a deal."

Lucas raised his eyebrows, "_You're_ going to disarm it?"

Ingrid shrugged, "Look at it this way, if I fuck it up we'll be dead before we know what's happening."

Lucas nodded, "If you can disarm it great, if you don't know what you're doing don't touch it though."

Ingrid ignored his warning and started back down the hill, might as well take a look before she left for Arefu.

The redhead crouched beside the bomb and gingerly put a screwdriver to the control panel, carefully removing the fixings. She'd borrowed the screwdriver from Lucy, the blonde was the only person other than Simms that was game enough to speak to her. The scraping of metal against metal made the whole business fell all the more ominous, if she fucked this up she wouldn't live to regret it. The plate finally came free, hinging open at one side to allow her into the main section, there was a mass of complicated wires and small computer chips. She thought back to the books she'd read as a child and what Jonas had always said about bombs.

'In the old bombs the detonation cord was always green, cut the green wire and the bomb won't go off.'

The only problem was that all the wires seemed to be charred on the outside, she couldn't tell which was green. Gingerly she began twisting them, hoping there was some colour left on them somewhere. She moved and shivered as water splashed into her boots.

Finally she found something. Where the wires were soldered to the board there were colours etched on. .Y..G Now the big question was, would G be green or Gr? Ingrid began tracing the wires back to their respective connections, tugging on each to find out where it goes. There was a snap and the Gr cable popped out of its solder. Ingrid froze. The bomb whined lightly, a slow metallic beep that pierced the ears.

"Fuck." Ingrid muttered, she waited rigidly for the explosion whilst the beep continued.

Then it died out, as though someone had turned the volume off. The red light pulsing on board suddenly died too.

Ingrid blinked, "I defused it?" she muttered, questioning herself. Hastily she stepped back afraid that if she stayed too long the bomb might change it's mind.

"Well well, so you did it." Lucas voiced over her shoulder.

Ingrid jumped at the voice and spun around, she was silent for a moment, "I-I guess I did."

Lucas smiled, "You're okay kid." he said holding out a sack of bottle caps, "Here's payment." he paused, "And a deed to the empty house."

"Deed?" Ingrid asked quizzically.

"Sure, we could use someone helpful like you around this place." he smiled under his beard, "If you want to decorate the place you should go up and see Moira at Craterside Supplies, she's got a bunch of stuff."

Ingrid nodded slowly, "I'll think about it." she paused, "Do you have a tailor around this place?" she asked suddenly remembering her earlier desire to get a new set of clothes.

Lucas shook his head, "A trader just left, he was selling Armour and such, perhaps you should try following him."

"Where was he going?"

"I think he mentioned Arefu." Lucas shrugged, "Anyway I have to get back to my rounds."

Ingrid nodded and started back towards the main door, she tied the bottle caps bag to her belt and made sure the water and ammunition was safely tucked inside the satchel Lucy had lent her.

Ingrid sighed and put the lip of the water bottle to her mouth, taking a quick swig before returning it to the satchel. She'd been walking for a while now, the sun was biting into her skin even in the late afternoon and her wedgie had returned yet again. She was desperately hoping she'd come across the trader soon, and even more desperately hoping he'd have some sort of undergarment as well as Armour. She didn't like the barren wastelands as much as she'd hoped she might, no matter how exciting this new world was she still didn't like it that much. At least being on her own let her think instead of being berated with awful conversation. She never had meshed well with people, even Amata had told her she was a cold person on more than one occasion. Then again, Ingrid was pretty sure Amata was a closet lesbian who like her, but Ingrid had known to be wrong about that sort of thing before. And being scolded for calling someone homosexual was not the most pleasant experience of her life, come to think of it, most of her time in the vault was unpleasant. She glanced around the unnaturally empty wastes, this place wasn't particularly excellent either come to think of it.

"Howdy Stranger!" a cheery voice called.

Ingrid almost screamed but she managed to stop herself, the man was standing with his pack Brahmin behind a truck.

"You really should pay more attention to your surroundings." the trader muttered tugging on his dirty cap, "I'm-"

"Let's skip the introductions." Ingrid snapped glancing over the trader he was wearing some sort of simple combat Armour, metal plates strapped across his chest, stomach and thighs. He was grubby and dirty like everybody in this place. So much dirt they all seemed to look somewhat alike.

The trader nodded slowly, "Fair enough."

"What do you sell?"

"I sell the finest Armour in the wastes."

Ingrid nodded, "This is probably a stupid question but do you have underwear as well?"

The trader looked taken aback, "I do have some long-johns..." his voice trailed off.

"I'll take them and some sort of Armour." Ingrid said quickly.

"What sort of Armour were you chasing?" the trader asked, "And what's your price range?"

"I have a hundred caps and I'll trade you this rare vault 101 jumpsuit."

The trader rummaged through the pack on the Brahmin, Ingrid cautiously took in the beasts twin headed anatomy, the creature looked disgusting, radiation certainly hadn't done it's breeds evolution many favours. A bundle of Armour and cloth landed at Ingrid's feet with a soft _clink_.

She sighed and undid the bag of caps from her belt, she handed it over almost begrudginly, "Is there anywhere I can change?" she asked suddenly, the trader motioning for her to give up the jumpsuit she was wearing.

"The truck trailer is empty." he said quietly as he pulled something else from the pack, he dropped it on top of her other clothes, "I'll throw in the cap as well."

"Thanks." Ingrid muttered moving towards the back of the truck. She clambered into the trailer and stripped off quickly, removing her too-small bottoms and stuffing them into the up-until-now arbitrary pocket on the long-johns. She pulled the Armour over the top, tightening the leather belts before rolling up the jumpsuit and pulling the semi-clean baseball cap over her messy red hair. 'At least it'll keep my hair in place.' she thought tucking the tips of her hair into the neck of her long-johns forming a barrier between the back of her neck and the sun's despicable heat. She dropped back onto the dusty ground and handed the jumpsuit over to the trader. He glanced it over and smiled.

"Excellent condition." he said handing a small bag of caps to her, "Your change, thirty-four caps."

"Thanks." Ingrid grumbled before walking away. It was strange how much satisfaction complete freedom from recurring wedgie's gave you.

_[AUTHORZ NOTE: A pretty boring chapter I guess, but none the less it gets better, or I hope it does anyways. In the next chapter our strapping young druggo, i mean, heroine, meets up with an enclave soldier, the wrong end of a combat shotgun and a nice murder scene.]_


	2. Chapter 2

[Disclaimer: I do not Own Fallout 3 or the characters created by the creators of Fallout 3, not doing this for money or other personal gain stuff etc etc. I do, however, own Ingrid and the other OC's in this fanfiction. Yay me, not.]

_Blood Clots_

Night had finally fallen and Ingrid was getting worried, the full moon illuminated the barren landscape in an eerie pale glow, everything seemed different now, and she was sure there'd be a lot more creatures lurking around. Arefu was ahead of her, a scattered group of houses built on a broken bridge. It wasn't far now then she could deliver the wretched letter and go collect her payment.

She yawned, her eyes watering as she stumbled onto the start of the bridge. There was an explosion to her left and she screamed, hurriedly rubbing the tears from her eyes so she could see clearly. A man with a gun jogged towards her, the combat shotgun now pointed into the sky.

"Sorry I thought you were one of the family." he said apologetically.

Ingrid swore, "You mad fucking bastard!" she roared, "You nearly shot me!"

"Well you can't be too careful ou-"

"Too careful? Do you just go around shooting every visitor you ever get?" Ingrid took a slow breath, "Is this Arefu?"

The man nodded afraid if he spoke he'd cause another outburst.

"Where are the Wests?" she said simply.

"Third building down, I'm sorry about the shot, I've been on guard duty without sleep for a while." he paused, "Could you do me a favour and check on everybody to see if they're alright?"

Ingrid snorted, "You almost take me out and then want me to do _you_ a favour? There'd better be a damn good payment."

The man nodded, "I'll give you fifty caps if you do."

Ingrid shook her head, "No, fuck you, you can do it yourself, I'm just going to deliver the letter." and with that she stormed off pushing past the man and skirting around the sandbag barrier that had been laid out across the bridge.

Ingrid pushed open the door to the dilapidated hut that was the West's home and froze. Two bodies lay on the floor, thick gouges across their necks, the two looked about the same age obviously husband and wife. She glanced around the room, nobody else was alive here, she stepped over the corpses, trying to avoid the pools of blood. She glanced around, there was a collection of drinking glasses and a dinner plate sitting on the table. She thought for a moment before quietly slipping them into her satchel, at best she might be able to sell them to the bar owner's in megaton, surely they need more dishes and so forth. She closed the satchel and shook it, there was soft clinking of cups but hopefully that guy on guard wouldn't notice her satchel was a bit fuller than it had been. She slipped back to the door and sidled outside, dead bodies never really had disturbed her, she'd seen them being processed in the vault, they weren't scary. She'd wanted to cut one open to find out how they worked but her father had told her no and that her morbid curiosity would get her into trouble one day. She smirked at her successful heist, hopefully it wouldn't be today.

"You realise the Wests are dead right?" She asked sitting on the sandbags next to the guard, the old man was bald and had a dirty moustache-beard thing growing on his face.

"Dead?" he asked quietly, "Fuck, the Family must have gotten to them in the last attack."

"So, who do I give this letter to?"

The guard didn't seem to hear her question, "All three of them dead? And I didn't even notice."

"Two." Ingrid butted in, "There's two bodies."

The man paused, "They must have taken Ian with them, the dirty bastards."

"How do you know they're bastards?" Ingrid asked sarcastically, then she realised where she was, "Oh wait, no, out here they probably are. Sorry for interrupting."

The man swore again, "If you want to deliver that letter you'll have to go find the family and see if you can rescue Ian."

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, "Do I look like I'm kitted out for a rescue?"

The man sighed, "No I suppose not, I'd go myself but someone has to stay here and guard the place."

"Whatever." Ingrid muttered walking off, "I'll just tell Lucy her family's dead, not my problem."

It was only about an hour later Ingrid realised how disorientating night time was, she needed to stop and wait until the sun rose so that she could get her bearings. Ingrid was about to start looking for a place to stay the night when a noise made her turn, heavy footfalls sounded behind her near the half-dry lake she'd just crossed. The creature stalker her slowly, almost wary that she'd notice it, like a predator would stalk its prey. Fumbling she pulled her pistol from her belt and began to walk backward. The beast was some sort of mutant humanoid crab, its thick white armoured skin glistening in the moonlight, it claws opening and closing slowly on the open air. She raised the pistol shakily and aimed for its face, or what she assumed was its face inset slightly into its Armour what a part that seemed more fleshy than the rest of it. She fired, the creature stopped, shook its torso as if in pain then began running at her, it lowered itself into a charging position. Ingrid screamed and scrabbled over the large rock behind her fleeing for the nearest building. She raced towards the steel fence further on, crashing into a gate. She fumbled with the lock, glancing over her shoulder to check on the beast, it had found her again and was trying to sneak up on her again. Finally she flicked the rusty latch up and slipped inside, closing the gate faster than she'd opened it. The creature crashed into the chain-link fence sending ripples of movement along it, eerie metallic tinkling echoing in the night. The creature bashed the gate again, the latch visibly bent inward.

Ingrid didn't stand around waiting to see how strong the latch was, she bolted, throwing herself into the tunnel entrance and through the service door. It clicked shut behind her and she took slow breaths whilst her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She slipped down to the next door and pushed it open stepping out into the tunnel, there was a crash behind her and she stared at the crab creature, it bashed against the iron gate that blocked off the tunnel from the outside world. She shook her head, at least this gate was strong enough to hold it back. But how long before it discovered the door, would it discover the door, was it intelligent? She shook her head, no sense it trying to find out and with that she started working her way down the tunnels. She slipped through an alcove that joined two train lines, the strange cries from a nearby pram making her more fearful that curious so she skirted around it, slipping along the wall. She stopped at the other end as she heard minigun fire, the continuous whine getting closer and closer until _click-click-click_. A figure came into view as she huddled against the wall trying to keep out of sight. The man was enormous, or that was the impression his Armour gave. All she could see was his right side, he stopped right next to her as he jammed a new cartridge into the minigun. There was thick metal plates down his right arm, they looked strangely familiar, then Ingrid realised they were railings from the highway bolted together to cover his arm, two headlights were mounted on his right shoulder, one was shattered, the other was still intact but neither were turned on. His chest was covered by what looked like the crab-creature's shell but darker and cut to fit with metal plates screwed to it. His stomach was covered in small metal plates mounted on two strips of tyre. His face was covered by what looked like an old arc-master welding face-mask but heavily modified so that it was mounted over the front of, what she could only assume were metal shelves, bent into a box around his cranium. His right leg was covered in bent metal which in turn had two leather pouches screwed to it, his lower leg had rings of power packs strapped to it, thin wires snaking between each of them connecting them together., the wires ran up his plate covered back and into a box on his shoulder. He must be part of the Enclave she'd heard about on that radio transmitting eye-bot thing, they were supposed to be the good-guys.

The minigun started firing again as he continued to step backwards towards the metal gate that sealed the tunnel. Back towards a dead end.

Ingrid pulled her attention away from the retreating figure and raised her pistol, a man stepped into view wearing an old long coat, blood was pouring from his left arm but his 10mm sub-machine gun fire off bursts every few seconds. Ingrid pointed the gun at his head as the minigun wielder suddenly stopped firing, the whine had stopped too so obviously it had jammed. She fired, the bullet colliding with the side of the raiders head, blood splattered onto his coat and he dropped to the ground instantly. There was a shout and another man appeared but Mr Minigun was ready again, the whine sounded as the barrel got up to speed then hot lead tore through the newcomer who was dressed similarly to the other raider. Suddenly it was all over. The Minigun wielder was approaching her and she finally saw him front on, she froze like a rabbit in a car's headlights as she took in the rest of his Armour. His right side was all metal plates but his left side was far more grotesque. What she assumed was a hollowed out skull sat atop his left shoulder, but it was too big for a human, maybe a super-mutant skull like the radio had told her about. His left side had this rubber strips wrapping around it connecting the Armour plates on his front and back together, his right leg had a thin metal plate strapped to it's thigh but thick bones were strapped around it, they were human thigh bones, their ivory colour more forbiding that the glinting grey weapon he held. The lower part of his left leg seemed to be one big boot, the leather reaching to his knee, what she guessed were shoulder blades were strapped to it to form a shinguard. His left arm, which was now gently placing the weapon on the ground beside him whilst his right hand drew a revolver from his belt. Black hair hung down from under his helmet and draped across his shoulders. _Or is it a girl?_ she asked herself.

He pointed the revolver at her head and pulled something from a satchel at the same time.

"Why did you help?" the man asked, it was definitely a man she realised as she saw the metal cover for his groin, his voice little more than a whisper.

Ingrid stared at the pistol, her own pistol no use against this armoured brute.

suddenly something clicked onto her right hand, she glanced down and froze as he pushed the other cuff onto her left hand.

"Weapon." he said holding out his hand, finger curled just enough for her to see the white bones tied to his the back of his hand and fingers. Was he a cannibal or just a psychotic?

She raised the weapon but he suddenly grabbed it and twisted it from her grip.

"Stay." he hissed at her sliding her gun into a pocket on his leg, his own revolver staying trained on her as he moved to the bodies. It took her a moment to realise what he was doing, he tugged at their coats, pulling papers from them until he found the one he was looking for. He unfolded it and sighed heavily before jamming it in with her gun. He grabbed the coat again and awkwardly pulled it off the corpse with his free hand, he dropped it on the floor in front of her and rolled the body over searching in the pants pockets. Triumphantly he dragged a handful of bottle-caps out and dropped them into his boot. He stepped over the corpse and followed the same procedure with the second. He turned back to her then.

"Up." he intoned.

Ingrid got to her feet slowly, two hand not able to move more than a few inches apart. He picked up the coats and dumped them into her arms.

"Carry." he ordered in his whisper, "Follow."

Ingrid didn't move.

The figure took two steps and then turned back to her. "Follow." he repeated, slightly louder this time, obviously thinking she hadn't heard him.

"Why?" She asked, she wasn't going to just be some guy's slave because he had a gun.

The figure cocked the gun and moved behind her. He pressed the cold steel barrel into the back of her neck.

"Death?" the figure asked, thought it was practically a statement. Obviously he was used to getting his way.

Ingrid begrudgingly stepped forward and heard a grunt behind her as he hefted his minigun onto his shoulder with one hand. He lent over a little, obviously he wasn't as powerful as his Armour made him appear.

They walked deeper into the tunnels until bizarrely they stepped out into an open space. The subway station had caved in in most of the tunnels and the escalators were long since out of order. And the whole place seemed to give off this ominous feeling of death. She wasn't sure if that was just the atmosphere or whether it was because Mr Minigun behind her had played Spray and Pray with the inhabitants. He prodded her up the escalator, moving her to one of the beds at the top.

"Sit." he said taking one of the jackets from her. He opened it with a flap and began dumping the contents of ammunition boxes into it, medical supplies soon followed and then a bunch of clothing. He tied the coat closed so it formed a sort of makeshift carry bag and then grabbed Ingrid's arms, pulling them out and placing the bag in them so she could carry it. He took the spare coat and draped it around her shoulders, buttoning the top button so she could just wear it, not carry it.

"Up." he muttered, gesturing with the gun.

Ingrid didn't move again, "Shoot me then." she said simply, "You'll have to make a bunch more trips to get the stuff without me."

He seemed to pause then, his head tilted slightly as if he was considering his options.

He dropped down beside her and turned to look at her. There was a long silence and she assumed his stare was supposed to be meaningful, eventually he put the minigun down beside him and lent forward, still looking at her he propped his head up with his arm and sat in silence.

Ingrid fidgeted waiting for him to do something.

His head tilted suddenly and dropped off his hand. He jumped, and glanced around, pistol immediately flicking up to point at her whilst his other hand went straight for the minigun as if checking it was still there.

"What's was with the long stare?" she asked bluntly.

"Long stare?" the voice asked.

She nodded, "Before you fell asleep."

He shook his head, "You didn't answer my questions so I figured you didn't want to talk." he hissed.

"What questions?"

"What do you mean what questions, I asked you your name like five times." he held up his left hand, fingers fanned out to emphasize his point.

She shook her head, "Uh, no, you didn't."

He was silent again, it was a different silence, finally he spoke, "I must have forgotten to use my mouth." he muttered, as if trying to explain himself.

Ingrid yawned suddenly, she tried to suppress it but it escaped anyhow.

The figure tilted it's head again before taking the bundle of stuff from her, "Sleep." he said, it was more a request than a command this time.

She nodded slowly, strangely now aware just how tired and sore her body was. She laid down on the bed, Mr Minigun moving his weapon to the floor and shifting to on side to allow her space.

"Before you sleep." he said quietly, "Why did you help me?"

Ingrid mulled over the question for a moment, he was really perplexed by her help wasn't he? Surely that was the only reason he kept asking, though in hindsight he didn't really need her help. "It sounds stupid but I thought you were one of the Enclave."

The male made a funny hissing sound, Ingrid's drowsy brain took a moment to process the sound and realise it was his laughter. She closed her eyes slowly, aware he was still holding the revolver.

"Hello Stranger, looking to buy?" the trader called to the Armour man. Ingrid was begrudgingly walking along beside him, a thick leather strap connecting his right arm to her waist as a precaution, obviously he still considered her a hostage, or he was afraid she'd run off, probably the former rather than the latter.

He merely lifted a skeleton covered finger and pointed at Ingrid, "Sell." he said simply.

The trader was quiet for a moment, "Sorry, I don't buy slaves." he said finally. Ingrid recognised the trader, he was the same one who had sold her her Armour.

"Help me you bastard." she muttered under her breath.

The trader glanced at her and then at the minigun held in the armoured man's hand. Suddenly a hand moved, releasing the minigun it picked the bundle from Ingrid's arms and dropped it on the ground in front of the trader.

"She's not a slave. Sell these." he said simply.

The trader nodded not wanting to insult the minigun wielder. He bent down and undid the coat before laying out the items so that he could see them more clearly.

"One thousand caps minimum." Mr Minigun said louder than his usual whisper.

The trader nodded, "I'll give you one and a half for these bit and pieces, especially those pistols."

Minigun was silent, he simply held out a hand for payment. The trader obliged, dumping a cloth bag into the outstretched hand before hastily stuffing his new purchased into his Brahmin's carry bags. Ingrid seethed at him for not helping her but her bout of anger was cut short when the leather strap tugged on her, "C'mon." he said quietly.

They didn't stop walking the whole day, occasionally he would pull out a bottle of water and hold it to her lips for her to drink but he seemed content to trudge on in silence.

"Stupid wasteland, stupid leather strap stupid trader..." Ingrid grumbled, she'd long since given up trying to have a conversation with her captor, he either forgot to use his mouth to speak or didn't want to talk, she wasn't sure which, how do you forget to use your mouth to speak anyways?

As night began to fall they reached their destination, an ancient overturned train. The metal behemoth lay on its side atop a bridge, the back and front doors were sealed shut with dirt and rocks. Minigun motioned to her to climb the stone clumps that formed steps to the top of the train, which was really the side. He followed her up and opened the closest door. He motioned for her to enter and she clumsily climbed down the short ladder. He followed her, closing the door behind him. There was a clicking sound as the gas light in the centre of the room flickered into life. There was a single canister of gas sitting next to it feeding the flickering yellow flame. He untied the leather strap and motioned to the bed at the other end of the carriage.

"Sleep." he muttered before turning to the ancient fridge. He pulled open the door and fished around for a moment before producing what seemed to be salted meat. Ingrid stared at it hungrily, her stomach reminding her she hadn't eaten in two days.

He heard the growl and turned to her. He moved, closing the fridge and walking towards her, she'd already moved to the bed. The carriage didn't have much else in the way of furniture, a dozen ammunition boxes formed a table and there was a chair from an old car leaning against what used to be the floor. He offered the box of meat to her and went over to the chair, sitting down quietly. He flexed his fingers and stared at the set of lockers he'd placed on the other side of the room. He didn't have much to say at any rate. Ingrid ate the meat for a while before she felt ill from it, the salt had preserved it well but killed her taste buds. She got up slowly and put it on the table in front of him. He glanced up at her and nodded. There was one other interesting feature inside the train car, down the other end was a bathtub and a metal bowl like shape with a blackened rim, a metal box was hung over it with a pipe leading to the ceiling as a chimeny. She almost smiled, he felt the cold so he must be at least semi-human.

He lent back in the chair and waited for her to return to the bed, hopefully she'd do so quickly so he could get some sleep too. At least the lock on the door required his key so he could be sure she wasn't going to disappear in a hurry.


End file.
